image by Patrick Machado / Flickr
Drifting
on the fog,
not quite here
yet
to embrace the change,
the shift in speed
or landscape,
still
unclear
if the direction is from
first to third or
turbo disengaged.
It feels more like
stuck in neutral.
http://pleasurenotes.com/mondays/
image by Darkmere/Flickr
The Turks,
they came to claim,
were wrong to fight the flames.
Nature must have the final say.
Silence.
http://pleasurenotes.com/the-flames/
image by AlicePopkorn/Flickr
She prances and preens,
showering promises
and promising dreams
from a venom-tipped tongue
that keeps none
but those to the one
in the mirror.
Beware the pomp and circumstance,
the truth behind
her willingness to dance.
The goal is not a partner
but a spin
that lets her win,
collateral be damned.
http://pleasurenotes.com/spin/
image by Daniel Larson / Flickr
The man,
the guy,
the kid, yes,
he’s a kid,
vibrates behind the counter.
Disks in his ears,
rings in his nose,
women,
and dragons,
on his arms,
he’s clearly had too much
of the junk
today.
It should be a warning.
I see it
as a challenge.
Hook me up.
One more latte,
coming my way.
http://pleasurenotes.com/the-junk/
“Pillow” image by Green Heat / Flickr
Hamsters nibble their way
to hell.
Gravel accumulates,
blinding
the light.
Dark matter,
a weighted vacuum,
claims the clock.
And the cat screeches,
madness
in its eyes.
No five star hotel here.
http://pleasurenotes.com/sleepless/
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